


Wrong Door

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 15:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2433980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac is more than a little bit drunk, having spent half the night partying, and when he finally makes it home, he going into the wrong door. This is not his bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "knocking on the wrong door au", and I took a bit of creative liberty on it. Enjoy.

The party had been in full swing since 6 in the afternoon and Courfeyrac, ever the fan of being the center of attention, had been entertaining people at this party he wasn't even the host of. Always with a drink in his hand, he flirted and laughed and made everything a positively wonderful delight. So much of a delight, it seems, that he completely lost track of time... and his sobriety. Several shots and a few pretty strong mixed drinks, and Courfeyrac found himself to be very drunk, and found the time to be 1 am the next day.

Making his way home, thankfully, went without much issue. He didn't have to drive because the building was just down the street, and though he could have just as easily brought someone home with him, he chose not to. Stumbling and laughing his way back to his flat, the brunette fumbled with his keys. The first key was the wrong one, the second key he couldn't fit in the slot, but finally on the third key he managed to get the door open. 

The flat was quiet and dark, as was expected, and Courfeyrac assumed that Marius was already asleep. Stopping in the kitchen, he pulled off his entirely too warm blazer, as well as the v-neck shirt he had under it, draping them on the chair. He grabbed a glass of water, knocking it back with some aspirin, which sober him would appreciate in the morning. 

Marius had rolled over in his bed, door closed but he could hear the tell tale sound of his flatmate returning. Deciding that the other would be fine, even if drunk, he kept his eyes closed and drifted back off to sleep, making a mental note to make a decent breakfast and coffee in the morning. Goodness knows, Courfeyrac would need it.

Not long after Marius had drifted off did Courfeyrac finally move from the kitchen, doing his best to stay on his feet. In that moment, the wall became his best friend, holding him up from certain death. AKA, a night spent passed out on the floor of the hallway.

Somehow or another, Courfeyrac managed to come to a door that was familiar enough, leaning his head against it for a long moment before finally opening it. He was very much so ready for bed at this point. Very drunk, very tired. Kicking off his jeans to leave him in just his bright blue boxer briefs, he stumbled and climbed into bed. It was only after his face touched the pillow that he was completely out cold. 

The shifting on his bed had woken him slightly but it took the feeling of a body collapsing next to him and the undeniable smell of alcohol for Marius to realize that Courfeyrac had mistaken their rooms and falling into Marius's own bed instead of his own. Because it was worth far more hassle to try and wake his dear friend, Marius simply pulled the sheet up to cover him, rolled back over, and fell asleep.

By morning the room was significantly lighter and Marius had gotten out of bed early to go make that breakfast he had promised himself he would make for Courfeyrac. Not that he was a good cook, but he could scramble and egg pretty decently. All one had to do was break, push it around, and make sure it wasn't runny. Simple enough. And by some streak of luck he was delighted to find the easy to make, microwavable veggie bacon that his flatmate enjoyed so much. The coffee, on the other hand, was a quick k-cup in the Keuireg, so it was impossible to mess up.

Courfeyrac's head did not want him to move, but he rolled over anyway, trying to get out of the light. Didn't the light usually come from the other side of his room? He blinked his bleary eyes open, trying to figure out if he fell asleep backward on his bed or not. It was only after a hazy, groggy glance around the room that he realized something very important. This was not his room. Groaning, Courfeyrac pushed himself up. He barely remembered getting back, and definitely did not remember falling into the wrong bed.

Given that Marius was not in the room and the smell of food and coffee was drifting through their relatively open flat, Courfeyrac somehow managed to get to his feet. He didn't bother pulling on clothes, goodness knows Marius had seen him naked plenty of times since they started sharing the space. Walking into the kitchen, he took a seat at the counter in the chair with his blazer draped over it, trying to smile. 

"Breakfast?"

"Marius.. Sorry 'bout last night, I didn't realize.." Courfeyrac began to apologize, not wanting to take up the other's personal space or anything. But Marius simply turned to look at him, that doofy grin on his lips. "What?"

"Nothing, it's okay. I didn't mind that you came in my bed," he shrugged, and then pinked slightly when he realized the innuendo he had made, the telling smirk on Courfeyrac's lips all the hint he needed. "Breakfast?" he repeated again, in a quiet croak.

Courfeyrac simply smiled, leaning his head onto his hand, elbow propped up on the countertop. 

"Breakfast would be devine."

**Author's Note:**

> I take requests at quinngrey.tumblr.com (though, I can't always promise them in a timely manner).


End file.
